


Pancakes and Coffee

by sunshinetina



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:25:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinetina/pseuds/sunshinetina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day you'll wake up at 11:30 am on a Sunday with the love of your life and you'll make some coffee and pancakes and it'll all be alright.</p><p>Or... how Mario still can't cook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes and Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, again writing about Mario and Marco, and again for a 'footy ficathon' prompt: http://thesilverwitch.livejournal.com/31896.html?thread=792472#t792472 *sighs*
> 
> P.S. Comments are always appreciated. *blushes*  
> P.S.1 The funny thing is Contra and I both filled the prompt, but with different pairings. *chuckles*

11:30 am is unacceptable time to wake up, even if the waking up is done by the unmistaken smell of fresh pancakes and coffee. His eyes snap open the second he realises the smell _is_ actually the one of pancakes. Oh, no.

 

Marco drags himself out of bed and runs at the kitchen, desperately looking around. Finally spots Mario in his dark-blue boxers and _holy shit, Mario is in my kitchen, in his boxers only. Holy fucking shit._

 

‘Morgen!’ Mario senses him and, clicking his tongue, turns around. Marco’s eyes uncomfortably shift all over Mario’s abs and he gulps so loudly, he thinks even the neighbours could hear him. Mario beams in a grin, then giggles, ‘Don’t worry, they are not ready and I haven’t eaten all of them. _Yet_.’

 

Marco sees Mario open his mouth, hears him talk, but doesn’t comprehend the words. He notices ever single twirl of Mario’s tongue and his vision becomes blurry all of a sudden and he shakes his head in frustration. Tries his best to smile. Fails.

 

‘No pretzels today?’

 

‘No pretzels today.’

 

Mario giggles again in response and Marco manages just a nod. Mario bites his lips and involuntarily steals a quick glance at the half-naked Marco in front of him. Lets out a shaking breath.

 

‘Seems like Munich was good for one thing, though,’ Marco _finally_ manages to half-crook a smile. Sits on one of the tall chairs near the kitchen board, ‘Can’t believe you are cooking.’

 

‘I lost at FIFA last night, remember? It’s not something that happens so often, so I decided to pay my due.’

 

‘By cooking?’

 

Mario nods and dibs his finger in the Nutella jar nearby. Marco opens his mouth to further tease Mario but is cut off by Mario’s index finger touching Mario’s lips, by Mario’s tongue sucking it slowly, by Mario-... Marco lets out a quiet moan.

 

‘When did you wake up?’ Marco’s voice is hoarse and unsteady, and he coughs to clear his throat. Mario waves with his hands, then quickly turns around and jumps to sit on the kitchen board, half-turned at Marco. Sheds another brightening smile.

 

‘An hour ago. Deliberated whether to check you up but, who knows, might have caught you in a – let’s say – _uncomfortable_ state,’ Mario chuckles and Marco feels his own cheeks getting ridiculously flushed by the not-so-subtle innuendo. Smirks, deciding to go along with the game. (As always. The teasing, the jokes, the flirting. Meant to be anything else but the truth. When actually, are the truest of them all.)

 

‘Uncomfortable for..?’

 

Mario bites his lower lip and his chubby cheeks get even chubbier and redder, if possible. Marco smirks, his eyes getting a mischievous spark in them.

 

‘I’ll beat your ass on FIFA today,’ Mario winks and Marco shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

 

‘Still can’t believe you’re staying in Dortmund for that long.’

 

‘Two days, Marco,’ Mario sighs and Marco shrugs, ‘Plus, how can I leave my friend all by himself, especially when injured?’

 

‘I am not _all by myself_ ,’ Marco pouts, ‘Marcel and Robin are here and-...’

 

‘I can go, then,’ Mario springs off the board and smiles sadly, ‘If you have enough friends, maybe I am unnecessary here.’

 

The entire situation is honestly ridiculous. Mario, in his boxers only, pouting at Marco (just as half-naked), saddened because he thinks Marco doesn’t need him. When _all_ Marco has _ever_ needed was, is, will be _Mario_.

 

Marco smiles again, harshly biting his lips, and slides off the tall chair, carefully limping his way towards Mario. Cups his face and squeezes his chubby cheeks between his palms. Marco’s cheekbones get a burning pink shade as he smiles even wider.

 

‘How can I get through the day without my _Sunny_ , hm?’

 

‘Don’t mock me,’ Mario pouts even more, ‘You are getting pretty well without me. Partying in _Cocaine_ , doing your monkey celebrations because of a bet, hanging out with Pierre-...’

 

Marco laughs it off and caresses Mario’s cheeks with his thumbs.

 

‘What’s Pierre got to do with the whole thing?’

 

‘You two are always together,’ Mario’s pout is sincerely childish but does _weird_ things to Marco’s body.

 

‘And?’

 

Mario shrugs, ‘Even off pitch.’

 

‘And?’ Marco leans forward and slightly presses his forehead at Mario’s. Mario shrugs and looks at his toes.

 

‘I don’t know, just-... You forgot about me.’

 

‘Oh, Sunny...’ Marco kisses Mario’s forehead and hugs him tight, pressing him closer than normal (given their _a bit_ naked nature right now).

 

‘I wish I could stay longer, Marco, I really wish.’

 

‘I know.’

 

‘And I don’t hate Pierre. I guess...’ Mario shrugs in Marco’s embrace, ‘I guess I just get a bit envious of him always being around you, while I am in Munich. _Envious_ is the word, right?’

 

Marco nods and smirks against Mario’s forehead, ‘Yeah. _Jealous_ is when I see you hanging around with Ann-Kathrin, while I am in Dortmund.’

 

Mario steps back, his cheeks in a dark-red colour, and Marco lets his fingers explore the round face centimetres away from him. The longest eyelashes, the meltingly brown eyes, the shy smile. Marco smirks softly.

 

‘Don’t you _ever_ tell me such things,’ Marco half-whispers and Mario frowns, ‘That I forgot about you. _Ever_.’

 

Mario nods quickly. Marco crinkles his nose and sighs, before starting to laugh loudly.

 

‘ _You_ are the forgetful one here. How are the pancakes?’

 

‘Oh, fuck! _Scheiβe_!’ Mario literally runs at the pan and coughs before getting it off the hot-plate. Lifts his eyes up at the giggling Marco, ‘Don’t laugh. You distracted me and I burned them.’

 

‘Seems like I was wrong, Munich did _not_ manage to teach you cook either.’

 

Mario sighs, but a smile appears on his face. Marco bites his lips and pats Mario’s hair before taking his phone from the table and heading out of the room.

 

‘And order some pretzels!’ Mario shouts after him and Marco smiles in the phone. Makes a mental note to purposely lose on FIFA later that day. And how to pay back to Mario.


End file.
